


Beyond the Walls

by neavehnavida



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Gen, Maze Runner AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29181861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neavehnavida/pseuds/neavehnavida
Summary: You'd think waking up in a forced environment with absolutely no memory of who you are would be bad enough, but Dream had a secret. It was fuzzy but he remembered things others couldn't, and he knew the impending doom heading their way. How was he supposed to save the glade while attracting the unwanted attention of the other guys?
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	Beyond the Walls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [harlie <3](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=harlie+%26lt%3B3).



> hi!! this is my first time writing an au on ao3 so please be patient with me LOL  
> I'm @SH1TINNIT on twitter!! you can find a lot of my other minifics, headcanons, and theories on there! :]

The first thing he noticed was the stench. It smelled like chickenshit. 

He noticed the faint hum of machinery and the slight bumps like he was in a car on a rocky road. The sound of animals, a pig squealing lightly. Stupidly, his first thought was that he was annoyed at whoever was waking him up. Then he realized he wasn’t on a bed. 

His eyes fluttered open, his senses suddenly alert. 

He was in a box. It was dark except for the weak light coming from LED tubes attached to the corners. He could make out the shape of crates. 

“Where am I?” he didn’t know who he was asking, he was the only person in there. The box was big, there was ample space for him to move around but it was moving up like an elevator and he was afraid he’d throw up from motion sickness if he shifted his position. “Hello?”

His heart was pounding loud enough for the roar to reach his ears. The pig inside one of the crates started squealing louder, startled by the sudden noise. 

'Think think think. Where are you? Where were you last?' He asked himself.

It was no use, his brain was absolutely empty but somehow moving too fast for him to comprehend. He had no idea where he was. Maybe he had been kidnapped, though he couldn't think of a reason worth kidnapping him. Maybe he was dead? 

'You’re not dead, idiot.' He thought to himself. 

He closed his eyes and focused, trying his hardest to ignore the sound of the box going up. Where was he last? He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember where he had been before this. He couldn’t remember how he’d fallen asleep. He couldn't remember what he'd eaten for lunch the day before, or if he even had lunch. He couldn’t remember what he’d done that week or the week before or the month before. He couldn't remember if he'd even lived a single day before waking up in that box. 

He couldn’t remember his name. 

His heart sank. Why couldn't he remember who he was? No name, no age, no family; everything was gone. He must've had those things right? How could he not? If he didn't he wouldn't exist. Yet he tried to remember the face of a mother, a sibling, anything, and there was nothing. 

He'd been so busy trying to restart his brain he hadn't noticed that the box stopped moving. The hum had gone silent, the lights had completely faded out. 

Then as if things couldn't get worse, he heard mumbles of voices coming from above him. One, two, three, four, five voices. Six? Maybe more. They could be murderers. Maybe he really was being kidnappers and those were the kidnappers. But maybe they could help him. 

'Not like I got much to lose.' He thought.

"HEY!" He cried for help. "HEY DOWN HERE! SOMEONE HELP!"

The voices became more distinct as they grew closer but muffles as if he were underground.

"God they better not have sent a fucking chicken this time," He could make out one of the voices say. 

"Shit won't last us a week," Someone else chimed in.

"HELP! PLEASE!" He kept screaming. 

"Jeez," Another muffled voice said. "The Greenie already shit his pants."

There was laughter. They were right on top of him. He heard the sound of metal clanging and a horrible creak. Then light flooded in, burning his eyes. Above him were ten or so boys, watching him; some in amusement, others in annoyance. 

"Hey," One of the boys called out. He had long, black hair held by a white headband. He wore a plain white shirt with black pants and a scruffy beard. His eyes were cruel and taunting like there was a dangerous fire behind them. "You alive down there?"

Though he'd been screaming seconds earlier, he could barely muster the energy to answer above a whisper. "Yes,"

"Alright," The guy said with a laugh in his tone. "Calm your shit, we're coming to getcha."


End file.
